Fandom Apartments
by Superordinary
Summary: Welcome to Fandom Apartments, where a crack in dimensions brings together fandoms that never should have met... Meet Riley King and Ava Drake, two OC characters who signed up for more then they bargained... (Also Includes Supernatural, Avengers, Avatar, etc.)
1. The TARDIS blue letters

**Hey guys, looks like I co-write now. I write Riley in this and fellow fanfiction writer: Ava Drake writes well- Ava Drake. Don't worry, I'm still continuing my dramione. This is just something that's been on our minds for a while and it needs to be out there. **

**Disclaimer: The only characters which are ours, are: Riley King and Ava Drake. We do not claim to own any of the other characters. And make no profit from using them. **

**Enjoy: **

Chapter 1: The Letter

There we were, outside the building that would change our lives forever, clutching the letters received only yesterday.

Oh, sorry, Hi. Maybe I should go back a bit.

My name's Ava Drake. I'm eighteen. A freshman at ACTU. I only started…what, three weeks ago now? Wow. Time flies when you're living with aliens. Uh. Forget you read that. We'll get to it, don't worry.

So, my full name is Avery Ezria Drake. That's how I should start, right?

I recently graduated from St. Valentine's School for the Gifted, with my best friend Riley King. I'll get to her later too. Or she will. You'll see what I mean.

St. Valentines is what people call a posh school. You know – the overpriced school for the rich and snobby.

Not that I'm snobby. Quite the opposite, actually. At least, I think so.

The other rich kids never liked me much. I'm too… enthusiastic. And I get distracted really easily. And I laugh at the smallest things. No restraint, you see. Not really a 'rich kid' trait. That over snobbish stereotype that goes around – it's scarily accurate.

So, I used to live with my uncle and my older brother. Well, I say I lived with my older brother. But for the past six years or so he's been out of the country, going to exotic places and sleeping with exotic people. Not to say I don't like my brother - I love him, I truly do. He's awesome. He also sleeps with everyone good looking that crosses his path.

My uncle's pretty awesome too. He's the silent type. He took my brother and me in after the accident. So he's looked after me since I was seven. But now I'm on my own. At least, that was the plan.

Riley and I had a plan. We were going to prove our independence. It started after high school graduation. Year 12 was completed and we were striking out on our own. Starting with a new apartment. But I'll get into that later. First, I'll let my friend Riley introduce herself.

XxX

Hey, I'm Riley Maria King and I'm eighteen.

I live with my parents, or well that should be past tense isn't it? Okay, well I used to live with my parents and my older siblings. Two to be exact. Both are perfect, or at least according to my parent's they are.

I can't stand either of them, but hey, that's family for you.

My fathers a big shot lawyer and my mother's a doctor. Neither played a huge part in my childhood. I only remember a lot of yelling and a whole lot of birthdays and Christmas' spent alone. But I guess that made me who I am today.

I met Ava when we we're thirteen. I was the socially awkward child who refused to conform to wealthy citizen ideals and she…she was a lot like me actually.

We've always got along well. Actually, scratch that, we didn't get along that well when we met. Remember, socially awkward children here.

If it hadn't been for our brothers meeting and deciding to try the whole 'relationship thing' and forcing us to hang out together, we'd both probably wouldn't have ever become friends.

XxX

Hi, me again. Ava, that is.

Funnily enough, it was Doctor Who that brought us together. You see, my brother, charming guy that he is, doesn't do 'relationships'. More like fucking them till he gets bored.

Ah, yeah. I don't swear much. But, uh, that's what he does, so…

So while he took his boyfriend to the bedroom, Riley and I were left alone in the house. And while we were sitting there in front of the tv, awkwardly – as Riley pointed out earlier - Doctor Who (my favourite show) came on. I waited for the inevitable 'change the channel' or 'yuck' or 'boring' – some typical rich girl response. But it didn't happen. In fact, she seemed to be waiting for me to say something. So we sat there in silence as the theme played. Unfortunately, it was a rerun of the Christmas Special. I sighed, and muttered "Seen it".

At the same time Riley muttered "Reruns again."

We looked at each other and laughed nervously. Who knew there was another rich girl fan girl out there, huh?

It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

XxX

When Ava and I got out acceptance letters from ACTU, the only problem we had was finding an apartment.

We'd already decided not to live on Campus. And finding one close enough to the University that was affordable was a problem. Even with us both working part-time, our incomes were still minimal.

After weeks of looking at flats, we still hadn't found one that was affordable. And it was starting to take its toll. I've literally forgotten how many flats Ava and I had looked at. And I was sick and tired of hearing about how great the facilities were.

We needed a flat, and we needed one soon.

So that's why, one rainy Sunday morning, the letter came as a huge surprise.

"Darling, why is there a letter addressed to you in the jam pot?" My mother was a tactile lady and not a lot fazed her. But even I knew she was surprised about that letter. Hell, I know I was.

She'd passed me the jam jar and stood there and I pulled the lid off and looked inside. All the jam was gone.

And in its place was a TARDIS blue letter.

XxX

I, on the other hand, was enjoying a nice bowl of cornflakes when my brother came down the stairs and dropped a letter on the table in front of me.

I looked back at him, disinterestedly. "What's that?"

"A letter."

"I see that."

"For you."

I looked back at it. "How odd."

"It was in my bathroom."

I looked at him. "Huh?"

"In my ensuite."

"What was it doing there?"

"How should I know?"

I frowned at him. "Right. Okay thanks."

He shrugged then walked back upstairs.

I reached over and picked up the letter. TARDIS blue, I thought with a smile. I'm a geek, I know.

I turned it over thoughtfully.

"No post on Sunday." I muttered to myself as I opened it.

I frowned thoughtfully as I read the letter, then my phone rang. I pulled it out, not taking my eyes off the letter.

"Yello?"

"You'll never guess what turned up!" Riley said excitedly into my ear.

I turned the letter over. "A TARDIS blue letter claiming they have an apartment for us?"

She paused. "Ah, yeah."

I laughed. "So, meet you at the Coffee House in ten?"

"Yep."

I hung up.

XxX

I've worked at the Coffee House for as long as I can remember. It's a quaint little place, filled with over-stuffed armchairs and old newspapers.

Over the years, it'd soon become Ava's and mine meet up spot. I liked the Coffee and the atmosphere and Ava liked- well I wasn't too sure what Ava liked about this place. Maybe she only came here to humour me…

When Ava arrived at the Coffee House, she was drenched. Mumbling something about forgetting her umbrella, she pushed past me to get inside from the cold. I laughed and followed her inside.

"So did you get the-"

"Drink now, talk about the letter later." Ava ordered herself a coke. Never electing to drink Tea or Coffee because they 'weren't her thing'. Yep, ten bucks said that she only came here to humour me.

We chose our regular spot near the back of the shop, me nursing a cup of earl grey tea. Pushing last year's paper out of the way, I sat with my feet up on the leather couch.

"So, you got the letter too?" Ava nodded and pulled it out of her jacket pocket, handing it over to me.

After a quick inspection, I handed it back. "It's the same as mine." Taking a sip of my tea. I sighed. "So are we going to go?"

"Yeah, I suppose we

XxX

So that's how we ended up outside 384 Norton Street, staring up at the huge building with big, round eyes, clutching those TARDIS blue letters to our chests.

"Should we knock?" Riley asked.

I frowned and took a step towards the door.

Just as a strange man in a bowtie opened it.

"Welcome to Time Tower!" he declared. "I'm the Doctor and I'll be your landlord!"

And that was just the beginning of our troubles.

**Reviews welcome. Next chapter comes soon. **

**Flames: I like flames, they keep me warm. **

**Praise: Feeds The Doctor. That man goes through so many biscuits guys... **

**Over and Out**

**~ Superordinary and Ava Drake **


	2. The Tour And The Fiery Feminist

**Hey guys, this is the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Doctor Who, Supernatural or Sherlock in any way. We just like to think we do. **

"_Welcome to Time Tower!" he declared. "I'm the Doctor and I'll be your landlord!"_

_And that was just the beginning of our troubles._

Maybe that should've been the cue to run, right? I mean, normal people would've run. I definitely felt like running.

The Doctor seemed like a nice man. Maybe a tad too eccentric. He babbled non-stop as we climbed a flight of stairs, going on and on about the other tenants and pausing every so often to point out things that really had no significance. He was okay. But there was something about him that I just couldn't put my finger on.

"And this is Sam and Dean's floor." He said, making me pause mid-step, assessing the door in front of me. They didn't have a number on their door. Just KAZ. I'd seen that somewhere but I just couldn't remember the exact place.

"Sam and Dean? As in Sam and Dean Winchester?" I snorted as the Doctor frowned at me. I couldn't believe this guy.

"Yes. Oh and Castiel but he's- some place." He gestured wildly around, as if 'Castiel' was somehow a part of the air particles.

"Yeah - sure." I replied sarcastically. Everyone knew who Sam and Dean Winchester were, along with Castiel. They were two fictional hunters who were accompanied by an Angel of the Lord. They also happened to be the main story of a television series called Supernatural. But sure, yeah, they were chillin' it up in some 'Time Tower'.

Hmm, Ava gave a small chuckle, but elbowed me in the side. Obviously she wanted me to behave. This place was cheap and nice, in an overcluttered kind of way.

"I know you don't believe me. But everything in this tower is real. Timey wimey wibbly wobbly stuff happened, and now we're all stuck here." From the look on his face, I nearly believed him. Only for a second though. Until I realised that he was potentially crazy.

"What kind of timey wimey wibbly wobbl-"

"Time rift." Said someone behind us and I jumped, nearly falling over from shock. I turned around, frowning at the man in the blue military jacket and the blond man wearing a white woollen jumper.

"Sherlock, John. This is Ava and Riley."

Ava leaned forwards and shook both of their hands and I nodded at them in greeting. Sherlock and John? John and Sherlock?

"John Watson?" I asked and the Doctor, Sherlock and John shared a look.

The Doctor smiled crookedly and then spread his arms wide in an almost comforting gesture. "I told you that everything in this tower is real." He reminded me.

I looked at Ava and Ava looked back at me. "This is so messed up." She said and all I could do back is nod in agreement.

xXx

"This is so messed up."

Riley nodded back to me. I mean, of course it was messed up. No way on earth were we talking to Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. And no way were Sam and Dean Winchester sharing a floor of this hotel. This was utter madness. And yet... well, it was interesting, wasn't it? Just to see how it turned out? Sure, this could be fake, he could be a nutter. But wouldn't it be a story to tell?

Like those stories people wrote about being carried into another dimension. Oh. That hadn't happened had it? I had to wonder. Or maybe I was insane. I could tell I wasn't asleep, so that was something.

"Are these the new tenants?" Sherlock asked, his eyes looking us over with utter disinterest.

"Oh, yes," the Doctor said. The Doctor. The Doctor? No. No. No.

No?

John looked at me. "So you're…?"

"This one's Riley," he said pointing to me, and that one's Ava."

"Actually," Riley said. "I'm Riley, and she's Ava."

The Doctor paused. "Oh. Uh, that's Riley, and this one's Ava." He corrected himself.

Sherlock turned his cold eyes towards the Doctor. "Ah."

"Um," John said. "So, how are you liking the place?"

I frowned. "It's nice."

"What she really means is that it's actually really weird." Riley chirped in.

I rolled my eyes.

John gave us a kind smile. "It certainly takes some getting used to. Then again, I've live with Sherlock so…" he trailed off and shuddered at some unknown memory.

"On we go!" the Doctor said, leading us away.

Riley and I shared looks as we followed the Doctor again.

"This is the 'Common Room'." The Doctor said, leading them into a large living room-esqe "Or, as it's come to be known – "The Death Trap."

"The Death Trap?" I repeated. "Why?"

"Because that lousy detective fancies himself a scientist." said a man from the couch.

I frowned at him. "Oh."

"That's Dean," the Doctor said.

"Heya," Dean said, and took a swig from a bottle of beer he was holding. "You must be the new guys."

I blinked at him. "Uh…yeah. I guess."

"Riley, Ava," the Doctor introduced us, making sure to get us the right way round this time.

"Hey." Dean said again with a half wave with the hand holding the bottle.

"Actually," Riley interrupted, "I prefer the term new women. Do I look male to you?"

I sighed. Riley was a feminist. An extremely, overtly, over-the-top feminist. To her, chivalry was just way males show superiority. I usually ignore it. It seemed silly to me, but it was how she was.

Dean raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but shrugged. "Sorry. So you're the new _women_?" he asked with emphasis on the 'women".

Riley nodded firmly. "Yes we are."

Dean pulled a face, as if he really couldn't believe Riley was serious. He shook at his head and muttered something under his breath. Then he put his feet up on the coffee table. "So when you '_women' _moving in?"

I sighed inwardly. He wasn't going to let that 'women' thing slip. Dammit. Great first impression we made.

"We haven't even seen our rooms yet," Riley pointed out.

She was in full feminism mode.

"And take your feet of that table," she added.

"Ummm… so about our rooms, Doctor?" I interrupted before Dean could retort.

"Uh, yeah- yes. Um, this way," he said, leading us into a corridor attached to the common room. I pulled Riley away before she could create anymore fuss. She gave Dean a glare before allowing me to pull her along.

I sighed as the Doctor stopped in front of two doors.

I looked between the two.

One had the name "Riley Maria King" on it.

The other had "Avery Valkyrie Drake".

"Um." I said. "Oh."

"So, this one's yours, and that one's Riley's," the Doctor needlessly clarified.

"Uh, what are you going to do if we don't take it?" I wondered aloud. It was a bit silly to print the names of people into doors of rooms they haven't even accepted yet.

"Oh, you know," the Doctor said.

I frowned but didn't comment further, as I opened my door and stepped inside.

xXx

I was never going to leave my room. I strongly suspected that when I died- they'd put on my tombstone: 'Riley never left her room, God bless her soul.' And I was fine with that, very, very fine with that.

In the corner sat a brand new Cello. (Mine was getting a bit old and scruffy around the edges anyway). And in the middle of the room sat a double bed, decked out with a Union Jack comforter set.

It still had room for me to put my junk. A couple of bookshelves to put my books on and a computer desk to the other side of the room. A door led off to a bathroom and it had an old English style bath tub. In all, it had everything I needed. And a bit more.

Walking across the room I grinned in the glee. It was perfect. Better than anything I had ever had. Opening the window, next to one of my bookshelves I looked down at the street below- at the people who were going on with their every days lives, without ever knowing about this incredible (if not a tad weird) building.

"Ever had fish fingers and custard?" Said the Doctor, letting himself into my room.

"No." I replied and the Doctor shook his head in disbelief.

"Well then," He said, "You better come out here with me and give it a try."

xXx

When I entered my room, I was not expecting…paradise. It was, firstly, huge. And dark. The walls were painted red. And it was one of those two sectioned ones. With half on a raised floor with a single step connecting the two bits. The bed was a queen bed, covered in a black doona cover with a dragon pattern on it, matching the pillows. I looked at the furniture. There was a guitar, and a black desk. And a bookcase. Three bookcases really, but the ones on the lower platform were empty. The last one, however, was not. I stepped up to it, and scanned the bookcase. They were manga! I've never bought manga. I love them to bits, but there were always so many of them! And here they were! CLAMP works mostly – Tsubasa and Cardcaptor, Chobits and X/1999. It was brilliant. And there were little figurines. No way, I thought, they can't be… But they were – the limited edition CLAMP in 3D Land figurines. This was amazing. I let my eyes drift up a bit. On the top shelf….VOCALOIDS! All of them! And then I let my eyes wander down and I flushed. Yaoi. There was Yaoi. In my room. Oh. I made my way to the bathroom. A toilet and a shower. Brilliant. I hate baths. I don't understand people who like them. I wandered back out. There was a window in my room, but it was, thankfully shut. I didn't like the sun. But this room….this room I loved.

There was a knock at my door. "Coming?" the Doctor asked.

I nodded and followed them back to the Common Room.

xXx

I've never tasted anything so, so good. I wasn't one for custard. I never really liked it. But oh my God! This was the best thing I'd ever tasted. It was almost as good as peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

The Doctor smiled as I dipped the fish finger into the custard and bit into it slowly- savouring the taste. "Good?" He asked.

I nodded. "Oh yeah."

Ava rolled her eyes. I liked everything. She knew I did. I'd been through her cupboards before, eating everything she had. So it wasn't much of a surprise to her that I actually liked this.

"I liked my room." She said to the Doctor and his smile widened.

"Well then, I guess that answers my question." He replied.

"What question?" I wondered aloud. He hadn't asked us anything.

The Doctor's smile turned a bit evil and there was a glint in his eyes. "So, are you going to take the rooms?"

**R&R please!**

**~Superordinary and Ava-Drake. **


	3. Watch your steps

Riley and I swapped looks. I could tell she wanted to take it. So I interjected before she could agree to anything.

"We'll think about it," I said.

The Doctor gave me a knowing smile. And it was smug, very very smug as he leant back. "Oh yes, do think about it," he replied. "I'd hate you to... rush."

I frowned, pulling a stand of hair behind my ear. He was such a confident person. Eerily confident. So much that he had got our names painted on the doors, I reminded myself. I looked at Riley , who was frowning to herself. Through that unspoken bond some best friends share, I could tell that she was thinking the same. Far too much self-confidence. There were other things on her mind too, I was sure, but I couldn't decode those. Besides, if I knew everything she was thinking, life would be boring, right? I never understand those who wish for mind-reading powers. It seems stupid. Impossibly close to omnipotence, really. Where's the fun in that? Anyway, I digress.

So we packed up and left, saying goodbye to Dean, and John. God knows what Sherlock was doing. I'm not sure I want to.

And so we found ourselves back on the doorsteps of Time Tower.

–

Standing on the time Tower's front steps, I sigh and turned to Ava.

"The Doctor seemed a bit..." I trailed off, unable to find the right words to explain his eccentric behaviour and the way he just seemed to- know things.

"Confident?" Ava asked, walking down the steps and hailing a cab.

"That could be the word I was looking for." I said, jumping into the back of the cab after Ava.

The Cabbie looked as us in his revision mirror and smiled. He was an old man, with greying hair and glasses. I knew him from some where. I might have passed him on the street once or twice. "Where to, Ladies?"

"Coffee magic bistro near Samuels street. Know the one?" I asked, settling back against the scarred leather seats of the cab.

"That small little place next to that Thai restaurant?"

"Yeah."

The Cabbie pulled away from the curb and into traffic, humming along to a song on the radio as he did so.

"You have a shift don't you?"

I looked over at Ava who was looking out the cab window, watching the world go by. " I do."

"I actually thought we might have a talk about the Tower." She said.

The tower? There wasn't a lot to say about it was there? I mean, it was creepy as hell and seemed to have fictional characters in it. But it was also incredibly cheap and was really nice. I really didn't see the problem with it.

"What about it?"

"Riley, it's full of fictional characters and that Doctor... I don't know if we can trust him."

Yeah okay, she had a point there. But it wasn't as if we'd be spending a lot of time there. We had classes to attend and I had my job to go to.

"I just-"

"That'll be twenty-four fifty."

I looked away from Ava and out the window to find myself facing the coffee shop. Ava sighed, clearly not through with the conversation yet.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay? Just- we'll meet here. I'll buy you lunch."

"If it's a tuna sandwich I wont eat it." Ava smirked and I couldn't help but laugh. Passing the Cabbie thirty dollars I jumped out of the cab, telling him to keep the change.

Nearly tripping over the gutter, I stumble slightly- catching myself just before I fell face first on the pavement.

"Watch your step." The Cabbie called out the window and I frowned- watching him pull away from the curb.

_Was it just me, or did that sound more like a threat then anything else?_

–

I watched Riley leave absent-mindedly. Working. I was always too lazy to get a proper job. Besides. I've been trained. That's what rich people do with their kids. Self-defence and stuff.

But uncle, he's a real gentlemen. He doesn't train us just for us to be safe or whatever. He wants us to be fighters. And gentlemen (regardless of our gender). So we are, my brother and I. Like princes of old and stuff like that. So, what do rich people want? Adventure. Like Lindsay Brown, from Stockholm Syndrome. I wanted to be a something risky – like a thief. That would be brilliant, I think. The risks and the ups and downs and fear. If I could find someone like Pip Valentine too, that'd be brilliant. Not the whole all his friends dying bit, besides, I only really have Riley as a friend. But adventure, that's what I wanted. And I got it, in the end, but let's not spoil that right now.

You see, as I said, I'm a very absentminded person, and so, when the cab trip took twice as long as needed, and in a very different direction to what it was supposed to be heading, I didn't even notice. At first, at least.  
And when I did realise, it was too late.

–

"This is ridiculous! I asked for a soy latte. Not a skim latte."

"Sir, actually. It was made on soy. I made it myself."

"Yeah well. You made it wrong."

Keep calm Riley, calm. Don't get angry. Do. Not. Yell. At-

"Are you listening to me, you pathetic excuse for a serving girl!"

Don't. Yell. At. Him. You'll lose your job if you do. You know you will. Keep it together Riley.

"Are you deaf or just slow?"

He. Did. Not. Just. Go. There. "Listen here you scum bag. You have better drink that before I shove it down your throat. You pathetic excuse for a human being."

The man gaped at me, a look of complete shock on his face. "I will not- I will not stand here and be abused by someone like you!" He stuttered.

I smirked. "Well there's the door."

He gave me the finger and then stormed off. Muttering about how he wasn't going to come back to this establishment and that he was going to report it to the health and safety board.

"Thanks for stepping in there Riley." Said Sabrina, one of my fellow workers. "You do know that I was the one to make that latte right? I think I might have accidentally made it on skim instead of soy."

"I don't care who made it. He still shouldn't have talked to anyone like that." I replied, stealing the dish towel from her and picking up one of the clean mugs.

"You're right." She sighed.

I chuckled. "I'm always right."

Drying off the mug, I frowned as a weird feeling swirled in my lower gut. It was sudden and gone before I could really register what it was.

Maybe I was just feeling funny after today, I thought- placing the mug down with the others on the shelf.

Well, I hoped that was the reason anyway.

–

But eventually, I did realise what was going on. I mean, after a while, anyone could've. Even me. And I did. Which I'm quite proud of in retrospect. I guess. Maybe not so much proud. Maybe more...disbelief? I don't know. I don't like dwelling on the past.

I don't quite like being kidnapped either.  
Call it my weird little oddity.

Even when I realised that I was being taken the wrong way, I thought that perhaps it was simply a mistake. I mean, I barely pay attention at the best of times, and it was completely possible that I had said the wrong address.

So I kindly repeated my address to the cabbie.

Which, obviously, didn't work.

At all.

At first I wondered if he was deaf. But of course, that wouldn't make any sense. He was a cabbie, for god's sake. So I leant forward to repeat my request, and instead got a gun in my face.

Being confronted with a gun is not something that happens every day. Or really ever. I have used a gun before. Several times. But never had I ever been confronted with one as such. And yet there I was. In a cab, out of all places. Too small to run, or fight, and too enclosed to scream.

The cab driver issued a command somewhere along the lines of 'Sit down, Shut up.'

Which I promptly obeyed. I reached for the door, but of course, it was already locked. Either he'd done this before, or watched a lot of movies. Anyway I was stuck.

I sat back slowly, gathering my jacket around me. During the trip, night had somehow fallen. I wondered briefly how Riley's shift was going. If she lost her anger once more, she could get fired. Which would be a shame really. Somebody would have to teach her how to use anger management techniques. She'd been kicked out of quite a few places for that temper of hers.

Odd the places my brain goes when in stress.

I had a knife in my boot of course, I'm a true gentlemen, remember? I don't go anywhere unarmed. Except the airport. That could be misconstrued.

But even that was useless when a gun was pointing at your face.

So, as I said. I sat down and shut up.

–

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. I could feel it in the air. I swear I could. A lot of people always said I should've taken drama, I do have such a knack for being overly dramatic, but today that jibe couldn't make me feel any better about the weird feeling I was having. Because I knew that Ava was in trouble. I couldn't explain how I knew- maybe it was because we're both so in tune with each other's feelings that I was some how picking up on hers? I didn't know and frankly, I didn't care.

I needed to get to her. Now.

_Maybe I should backtrack a little- just so I make a little more sense. _

Ava and I had agreed to meet in the coffee shop at around lunch time- I did offer to buy her lunch after all. Now, we were a tiny bit angry at each other- only because of our small disagreement of course, but not once had she stood me up (even when we were fighting).

So, as her best friend, I got a tiny bit (a lot) worried.

First I called Ava. Because really, if she was just running a tad late then I shouldn't be so worried, right?

"Come on. Pick up."

"This is Ava, I'm not here right now so leave a message after the tone and I'll get back to you."

"Hey its Riley. Where are you? You're an hour late! I'm going to come over to yours okay? So. Do. Not. Go. Anywhere!"

Her house was empty when I arrived. I ran the doorbell six times before I realised no one was going to answer.

It was then and there, that I started to panic. The last time I'd seen her I'd let her go off with that creepy cab driver. The one I'd thought had threatened me.

But Ava was smart. She wouldn't have gotten herself kidnapped... right?

I thought about who I could go to for help. I couldn't contact the police- I hadn't any proof that she was gone. Her brother was in London and I didn't want to worry him in case I was wrong. My mother? My father?

The Doctor?

No. John. John had given me his card just before Ava and I had left.

'Just in case.' John had said to me. And then Dean had smirked, as if they knew something was going to happen. As if they knew Ava was going to be taken.

Pulling the card out I dialled their number into my mobile.

"John speaking how may I-"

"John. I think Ava's been taken."

–

I awoke several hours later in a daze. That's what they say right? Or was that just on Family Guy. Ah well, nevertheless, I was in a small...cell? I frowned, and made my way to the bathroom. I looked fine, at least according to the mirror. No wounds or anything. There was a change of clothes, but I ignored them. I wasn't going to put anything on that wasn't mine. Who knows what sort of explosives they put in them? I was probably being filmed anyway. Then I exited the bathroom, back to the cellish room, and sat myself on the bed, and waited.

There must have been a camera in the room, as soon enough, there was a rattling at the door.

"Get changed," a voice told me. I frowned.

"And if I say no?" I asked calmly.

The voice laughed, and I sighed, making my way back to the bathroom to quickly, and hopefully invisibly, get changed.

It was a white dress, rather nice really. I so rarely got to wear white clothes, I thought to myself, on another tangent.

I came out, and the door opened to reveal a man dressed in black, wearing a mask and sporting a very vicious looking gun. He escorted me to a big empty room - like a ballroom of old, but darker and unfurnished - the walls stripped of wallpaper, and the floors simply cement. Like the abandoned warehouses in shows.

At least it's not a pool. I chuckled inwardly. Or a rooftop, I added to myself. Then I sobered up. Must not mention Reichenbach, I scolded myself.

And from there, I was lead to a chair, in the center of the room, and tied up to that.

I couldn't help but be reminded of Meta Salmhofer, the witch from one of mothy's songs.

I hoped my story wouldn't be quite as tragic at that.

And then a man strutted in. "Hel-lo," he said, with an odd inflection in his voice. Not just the British accent, you understand. Though there had been an awful lot of them around. Not that I was complaining, I've been to London quite a lot. And so has my brother and uncle. But this was Australia and you don't often get...what...five British in twenty-four hours? Bloody hell. But his voice, seemed annoying, drawling that hello like it was almost a joke.

"Hellllooo." I replied back with a goofy grin. "Are you the one in charge?"

He gave a laugh. Oddly annoying. But forced. Huh.

"Oh yes, did you enjoy your stay?"

I nodded, as much as I was able to. "Yes. Thank you for the clothes."

The man waved the thanks away. "Oh no problem. I want you to enjoy your stay as much as possible."

I raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for your consideration?"

He smiled back. "Anytime."

But his eyes darted away for a second. I yawned.

"Listen. I'd love to chat, but I was supposed to meet my friend and stuff soo... if you could just let me go, that's be just spiffy." Spiffy. I said spiffy. I've never ever used the word spiffy, but I did then. Why? I have no idea.

"Oh, but we're having fun," the man protested. "Aren't we? I'm really liking this world, you know...it's so much more...interesting than my one. So many more enemies. Oh darling this is going to be great."

I leant back and closed my eyes. There was just that subtle hesitation. What was this, hmm?  
Odd how focused I was even when tied to a chair. Adrenaline pumping, oh that was what I lived for. The adrenaline.

What to do next though...

"It seems I'm at a disadvantage," I began, hating myself for the words, ripped straight out of several books and plays and horribly unoriginal. "You know me, but I don't know you." I opened my eyes to give him what I hoped was a casual look.

He gave me a proper expression then, amusement in his eyes. But his words didn't reflect that at all.

"My name, honey, is Jim Moriarty. Perhaps you've heard of me?"


	4. The Pawn And His Master's Call

**Disclaimer: Sherlock and John and Moriarty belong to Sir Conan Doyle (and this version of them belongs to the BBC). I make no profit from using them. **

**Enjoy:**

You know that feeling? The one where your chest feels tight and you've got that fluttering in your stomach? Where you feel every little pulse beat and can hear every breath you take?

No? Well I certainly did in this moment.

I could feel the cold metal of the gun against my back where it was tucked into the waistband of my jeans. With every little move I made, it would rub against my skin and remind me that this was real. All of it. It wasn't some dream or fantasy. It wasn't a nightmare and if I died here- then I'd really die.

I followed Sherlock through the endless rows of crates, John bringing up the rear behind me. I could hear the rhythmic beat of Sherlock's loafers hitting the grey cement floor and I'd flinch every time he took a step.

'If we're discovered,' Sherlock had told me as he hailed a cab. 'Moriarty will not take kindly to my presence.'

I only hoped, now, that we'd get through here undetected. Because Ava wouldn't last long if we didn't.

It seemed like we were running in an endless maze, all the crates seemed to look alike and every now and again we'd come across a chair or a magazine that I was sure I'd seen only minutes before hand.

"How much farther?" I whispered to Sherlock as he stopped, head cocked to the side as he listened for something.

"Sssh."

"But I-"

"Stop talking. You're going to budge this whole operation if you don't. There's a guard, directly six crates in front of us. He's tired though. You can tell by the way he's shifting his weight from side to side." Sherlock whispered back to me softly. "I'd say a direct approach would be the most ideal but he'll most likely sound an alarm before we even got close enough. Especially with you and John blundering around like blind elephants behind me."

I looked over my shoulder at John, who simply rolled his eyes and then pulled out his gun. "We'll see about blundering blind elephants, Sherlock."

Sherlock smirked as John stealthily moved off in front of us, gun held ready in his hands. I watched as he went around the corner of one of the crates and then he was gone.

"Hmm. Sounds like a stumble there, John." Sherlock mumbled under his breath as he tapped one of his fingers on the crate in front of us- almost like he was timing something. "Oh and another one. Someone seems to be out of practise."

All of a sudden there was a startled yelp and then a crack as something was presumably hit against one of the crates. There was the sound of footsteps and then John ran around the corner, grinning.

"Blundering blind elephants, huh?"

"I heard at least three stumbles. A pack of wild blind elephants would make less noise." Before John could retort, Sherlock was off around the corner of the crate- his coat flaring out behind him.

XxX

"I found myself, in wonderland. Get back on my feet again," I mumbled to myself as I thought. I felt quite like Alice in a way.  
We should rename Time Towers to Wonderland, I mused.  
The man across from me, the one who had deluded himself into thinking he was Moriarty, he had grabbed a chair, and was sitting on it the wrong way less than a meter away from me, watching me intently.  
I lifted my head and grinned at him tiredly. "So what happens next?"  
Moriarty grinned back. "We wait."  
"For what?"  
Jim leapt up off his chair and circled mine. "Oh, just you wait and see." He wandered back to the chair, and leaned against it, "It'll be brilliant."  
I tutted and looked back to my lap. My nose was itching. I sighed.  
"Follow me down," I murmured, my mind running through song lyrics from the Almost Alice disk. As I've commented numerous times, my mind isn't one to work properly at the best of times. "They sing, they sing, nah, nah, nah-nah-nah."  
Jim blinked at me, letting one hand touch the side of my face to direct my gaze to his. "What's that?"  
"Oh-a-whoa-oh," I clarified.  
He frowned and, without warning, slapped me across the face. I gasped, my breath accelerating with my heartbeat. Where had that come from?  
Then again, he was, sort of, a mass murderer. Perhaps it was a bit expected that he'd have a violent side. Hmm.  
I wondered how far I could push him. Debating which song would annoy him most. Perhaps Kerli's 'Tea Party'. Or maybe I should switch to Vocaloid songs. That could annoy anyone. According to most people, anyway. Riley's the only one who tolerates me singing Japanese songs, and even then I can get on her nerves.  
But as the man turned to me, he looked, just for a second, an instance, in pain.  
As if he regretted it.  
Huh.  
Now, I'm no expert. But I was fairly sure that was not the modus operandi of a mass murderer.  
Yep. Okay. Something was wrong.  
Probably.  
Unfortunately there was only one way to test it.  
"I wanna live like common people, I wanna do whatever common people." I began.  
He frowned at me. Confused. Why didn't I stop?  
Yeah. Not him. Liar, liar.  
"Oh you're so funny. Yeah? I can't see anyone else-"  
"Stop it." He warned dangerously.  
"Cut your hair and get a job-"  
He almost threw himself at me, coming as close as possible, incredibly agitated. "Stop it!" he demanded.  
"Sing along with the common people! Sing along and you might just make it through."  
"Stop it!" he snarled.  
I just grinned innocently, and decided to change it up a bit. "Don't like Pulp?" I thought about it. "How about IAMX? And if you're hurting…"  
And that's when the hand came up again, and slapped me again.  
The man was sweating, having completely lost his cool.  
I raised an eyebrow. "Don't like hitting teenage girls, huh?" A pause. "Cos it breaks my heart, that we live this way. I know people need love, cos those people never play the game."  
He growled and walked away, pacing.  
How rude.  
"Pleasure for pleasure," I told him.  
He looked at me, a bit desperately. "Why do you keep doing this?"  
I frowned. "Tell me, Moriarty. Or…perhaps, you aren't who you say you are?" I smiled. "I'm a bit more clever than I look, right?"  
He gave me a hopeless look.

XxX

I heard the sickening ringing sound of something hitting flesh and had to bite back a gasp as I realised who'd just been hit.

I couldn't see over the crate- alas I was too short and I hated my height dilemma more, now, then I ever had before.

Sherlock was peeping through one of the gaps and I saw him make a face as he leant back to look at John and I.

"Remember when Jim was using a pawn?"

"He's using one now isn't he?" John whispered back and Sherlock nodded.

"It's quite obvious he's an actor. Just then he showed an aversion to physical violence. Now, if he was use to being in this trade then hitting a defenceless female would not bother him. Actually, he'd most likely do it more often to show his superiority in this situation." Sherlock said.

John made a face. "How do you know he's not running this operation? Not a lot of high class men like to dip their fingers in the pond, Sherlock. That would explain the aversion to inflicting pain."

While John and Sherlock had been discussing Ava's capturer, I'd pushed past Sherlock and was looking through the gap. The pawn was armed but I doubted he really knew what to do with it.

"You can tell that he's not the head of this operation by his stance. A relaxed posture would mean that he's use to a situation like this. That he's in control. But he's tense. He's awaiting orders."

"His masters call." I whispered to myself and John frowned at me.

"What?"

"He cocks his head to the side every so often. Like he's listening to someone give him instructions. I bet you five pound, that he has an ear piece." I told him.

Sherlock gave me a semi-pleased look. "There may be hope for you yet."

XxX

"As I was contemplating this strange turn of events, I noticed a shadow. It couldn't be the guard, I fancied I'd memorised their routine, so that must leave...  
"Mitsuketa," I said, matter-of-factly.  
That was a code word. I mentioned earlier how Riley was one of the few people who listened to me sing Japanese songs, so if it was her, she'd know that I'd noticed her - Mitsuketa being, in Japanese, 'I found it'. It's also the reoccurring line in the 'Bad~End~Night' series, but that's not quite as relevant as the translation.  
"Mitsuketa," I repeated again, a bit louder.  
So hopefully she had gotten the message. Now, all I'd have to do is wait.

XxX

"Mitsuketa." I frowned, looking away from Sherlock and back through the gap between the crates. I looked at Ava, she stared at the crates for a moment and then looked away. "Mitsuketa." She said a bit louder. I smiled.

"She knows we're here. Which means, sooner or later, Moriarty's pawn is going to notice us too." I said.

Sherlock mumbled something under his breath and John grinned.

"I feel like I'm missing out on something here." I muttered and John's grin turned into a full blown smile.

"Sherlock just told me I should be distracting. Apparently I'm very good at that."

Walking calmly from behind the crate, John froze in the middle of the room. Moriarty's actor turned to look at him, obviously incredibly confused. "Well shit, Sherlock. We were looking for that drug cartel and we've seemed to stumble upon something even better." John called.

I turned to look at Sherlock as he rolled his eyes. "John shouldn't act." Is all he said before he too walked out from behind the crate to join John in the middle of the room.

I stood behind the crate awkwardly, watching the whole stand off. What the hell was I meant to do? Stand here and be useless?

Moriarty's actor pulled his gun out from his suit jacket pocket and Sherlock sighed loudly. "You're not going to shoot us you imbecile."

"Oh just watch me darling."

John sighed. "Why do they always want to shoot us?"

"Occupational hazard." Sherlock said.

I smothered a laugh behind my hand and then noticed Sherlock cock his head, indicating Ava. I frowned for a moment and then realised why he hadn't called attention to my presence. While he and John distracted the fake Moriarty, that would leave me to save Ava.

Crouching low, I went the opposite way to John and Sherlock and behind more of the crates. Pulling the gun from out of the waistband of my pants, I flicked the safety off.

"Hmm," I heard John mumble as I neared where Ava was tied up. "I always wondered why. You didn't exactly put that in my contract."

"I thought my meddling brother would've warned you of the dangers that came with my work."

"Will you two shut up?!" Fake Moriarty yelled. I peered up from behind the crates to see him waving the gun at John. "If you so much as make another noise, I'll blow this one's brains out."

John smiled grimly. "Am I allowed to cough? Is that considered as a noise? Because I have this bloody annoying tickle in the back of my throat..." John trailed off as the actor's grip on the gun tightened.

I knew this wasn't good. While I wanted to get to Ava, before I did there was more a chance of John's brains becoming apart of this abandoned warehouse's décor.

I blew out a silent breath in frustration. What the hell could I do? There wasn't much. Looking down at the gun in my hands I then looked back up again at the back of Actor.

Standing up straight from behind the crate I pointed the gun at the Actor's left leg and pulled the trigger. Fake Moriarty let out a scream of pain and dropped to the floor. Dropping his gun in the process.

Jumping over the crate, I ran over to Ava, gun still pointed at the Actor. "Move and I'll shoot you in the head." I told him as he sobbed pitifully, clunching his leg as blood welled up underneath him.

"We did have the situation under control." Sherlock said as he and John undid the ropes securing Ava to the chair.

Ava looked over at me. "Where did you get that gun?"

I shrugged. "Sherlock gave it to me."

John let Sherlock undo the rest of the knots and then looked around the room. "He's gone!"

I turned around and groaned in frustration. Fake Moriarty was gone. And all that was left in his place was a pool of blood.

**C'mon guys. R&R! **

**- Superordinary. **


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